


Magical Advisor

by xikra1648



Series: Oneshots & Multi-Shots From Longer Fics I MIGHT Write [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Again, Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama, F/M, Fate & Destiny, Fluff, Friendly banter, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Language, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Romance, Some characters only mentioned, Sorceress Reader, Sorry guys, Sort Of, cliffhanger ending, mentioning of Infinity Stones, that's meant to be sarcastic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-04-11 20:06:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19116787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xikra1648/pseuds/xikra1648
Summary: The title was a joke, really.  You knew magic, you'd sort of fallen into being the person everyone on the team went to for advice, you ended up being teasingly called the team's 'Magical Advisor.'  More specifically, you were called Steve's 'Magical Advisor.'  You'd never campaigned for the job, like he'd never campaigned for the position as the Avenger's leader, but you'd sort of fallen into it.  You had no problem lending an ear and some words of wisdom, as long as nobody blamed you when they ignored your advice and things went to hell.What did bother you was how close you were getting to Steve.  Friends was one thing but this...Romance and love wasn't exactly an option for you.





	Magical Advisor

**Author's Note:**

> I wanna write a longer Marvel fic, but I have a handful of ideas that aren’t exactly falling together all that well. So, until I get everything worked out, it’s a series of one-shots and multi-shots.
> 
> I also have a bunch of different Rea ideas, but I haven’t decided on one.  
> Basically, comments would really help me narrow down which Rea to go with.
> 
> THANK YOU!!!!

# Magical Advisor

 

One of these days Stark was gonna throw a party you could attend wearing your usual comfy jeans and oversized pullover sweater.  Until then, you were stuck dressing up so you could drink in a room full of friends, some of which had seen you angry and covered in dirt and blood – not yours – as you got fed-up and started throwing spells that even _Hulk_ _and Thor_ made a mad dash to _escape_.

You’d been raised in Kamar-Taj, by the Ancient One, as a result of your…particularly _unique_ blood.  She’d never gone into _detail_ , she simply said that one day the Infinity Stones wouldn’t be enough to protect the universe and the same ancient power that threatened existence itself would be the only thing that could _save_ the world.  It was vague at best, but you weren’t entirely surprised.  Based on your studies, both fictional and historical, gave the impression that people in your unique position _died_ as a direct result of their efforts.

A grown adult and you still didn’t have a full grasp on the _raw_ power in your blood, the very power that had the Ancient One raising you in the first place, and bets were you weren’t going to have a real grasp on it until it was too late.

“Are we celebrating anything specific, or did we just have a lot of alcohol left over from the last party?” you asked as you made your way to the bar from the elevator, you had your own apartment in the tower but like most of the team you preferred having your own space.  Steve was still looking for a place in Brooklyn, but between leading the team, coordinating with Hill over what the agents would do, paperwork, keeping updated on any laws relating to the kinds of actions the Avengers took, making sure Sam wasn’t the _only_ one looking for Bucky…

Steve didn’t exactly have a lot of time to be looking for an apartment, and most of the reason had to do with why he was in the tower in the first place.

“Justin Hammer got convicted,” Natasha answered with a throaty chuckle as she grabbed a half-glass and scooped some ice into it before grabbing a bottle of bourbon.  She always _insisted_ on running the bar.  Even when she was eventually talked out of it, and forced to see that she had to be part of the party away from the bar, she tried to tend the bar for the night.  During a girls’ night she’d told you that the first thing she did when she joined S.H.I.E.L.D, during the few months they kept her out of the field for a series of physical and psychological checks, was take a bartending class.  It was something she didn’t have to learn in the Red Room, so she decided to learn it on her own, and since then it had a special place in her heart.

It represented a new life.

It made you wish your usual order was more complicated than _bourbon on ice_.

“For the Vanko thing?  With the droids at the Stark Expo?  Wasn’t that back when you first met Tony?”  You had to make sure you had the right person in mind as you perched yourself on one of the barstools, long high-waisted black skirt flowing freely as you crossed your legs and placed your soft white clutch onto the bar.

“Yup, Hammer had an army of lawyers drawing it out for years, but when the presiding judge retired it was passed to a judge that was at the Stark Expo with her family during the attack.  She called him and his lawyers out on _all_ their shit,” Natasha summed up the events as she slid your drink to you, leaning forward on the bar with her arms crossed as she waited for someone else to meander to the bar and ask for a drink.  “I was _going_ to say it’s the best thing I’ve seen all month, but then you came along in that outfit and screwed that up for me.”

You snorted out a laugh, rolling your eyes lightheartedly as you laughed.  Okay, yeah, you did put in a _little_ more effort than normal, but you just bought this outfit and you were going to do it justice at _least_ the one time.  The high-waisted skirt rested comfortably and safely just above your belly-button, flowing freely past your ankles and the perfect length for the black pumps you’d picked out. 

Your top was a bit…riskier than you’d normally venture, but it was summer and the quinjet had been temporarily parked on the roof of the tower so a glass railing could be raised and the balcony could be fully enjoyed.  The halter of the lacey top rested comfortably around the base of your neck, a risky move with the black choker that held the ancient silver pendant that helped you hone your power in the field, the cut-out neckline mixed with the built-in push-up of your top was impossible to miss.  The top itself only traced down to the bottom of your ribcage leaving a strip of skin bare between your top and the waist of your skirt.  The fact that the back was bare save for the clip at the back of the neck and the strip along the bottom didn’t take more attention was entirely due to the fact you’d left your hair down.

“You say that, but then Banner’s gonna come along and charm you with his awkward and adorable confusion over how you could _possibly_ be interested in him, and you’re gonna _completely_ forget about me,” you retorted just before you took a sip of your bourbon, not taking a moment to savor the top-shelf booze before you added, “And that’s the entire reason I’m ignoring the _June Cleaver_ meets _Devil Wears Prada_ ensemble you’ve put together.”

“That, and I look amazing,” Natasha pointed out as she started mixing a martini for herself, red curls bouncing lightly along her jawline as she playfully tilted her head with a coy smirk, the two of you giggling as you commonly did together, until something caught the spy’s watchful eye across the common area.  “That looks ominous.”

“What?” you turned in your seat to follow her gaze, watching as Tony and Steve parted ways from a private conversation in one of the offices overlooking the common area, Tony tossing back his drink at once as he made his way back down the stairs and towards you and Nat at the bar.  Steve stepped back into the office, his office, where he was likely taking a moment to breath and let his shoulders slump for a moment before gathering himself and stepping out like nothing could phase him.

“I think I know what this is about.  Hand me a glass and the bourbon,” you requested as you stood up, pulling your Sling Ring from your clutch and putting it on before tucking your clutch under your arm and grabbing your drink, the empty half-glass, and bottle of bourbon Nat had handed you.

Steve as the leader, even if he had no intentions of campaigning for the job, was natural.  Tony was a bit sore that he was the one designing and paying for all the stuff, but even he admitted that the job belonged to Steve.  What surprised the rest of you, yourself included, was how you’d fallen into _your_ role.  Every leader has their confidant, someone who has the training and ability to see things in a wildly different light in a much larger picture, someone who could talk them off the cliff’s edge if need be.

You just hadn’t thought _you’d_ be the person to pick up that role.

Well…you hadn’t picked it up as much as you’d _fallen_ into it.

“Steve,” you called as you knocked on his office door, the wall of windows separating his office from the hall was dimmed but you knew he was looking out the window to the city below.  You waited a few moments, well-aware Steve was gathering himself before opening the door, and firmed your stance.  “Steve you open this door before I count to three or I’ll _literally_ open a portal.  _One…Tw-“_

Steve had learned from experience that you weren’t kidding about that, so he yanked the door open and let you into the dim office illuminated by the city lights below before shutting and locking the door again.  You cocked your head and looked up at him before he heaved a heavy sigh and made his way to the couch lining the wall opposite his desk, leaning forward to bury his head in his hands.

“Why do I listen to you?”  The heaved question was out of jest, a way to pretend that there was no reason to be as tired as he felt.

“I’m always right, I give good advice, I’m funny, I’m charming, I’m pretty,” you listed off a few options to lighten the mood a little as you sat next to Steve, placing the glasses down and pouring him a generous drink even though he wouldn’t get drunk unless he dug out the small bottle of Asgardian liquor he kept hidden in his desk drawer after Thor gave it to him.  Steve let out a sardonic scoff, smiling a little as he sat back, watching as you grabbed the half-glass that didn’t have a faint lip-print in the shade of lipstick you were wearing, holding it out for the soldier to take.

“You didn’t have to give me the _whole_ list,” Steve returned your teasing with a jest of his own as he took the glass from your much smaller hand and took a swig while you picked up your own glass.  There was a brief moment of silence as you took a sip and waited for Steve to start with where he wanted to start the discussion.  “I told him everything.”

 _Everything_ referring to Hydra, more specifically the assassination of Tony’s parents.  Even more specifically Bucky’s role in it as an unwilling…well he was more of a _weapon_ than a participant.  Tony obviously didn’t take it well, especially considering it was hardly a secret that Steve was looking for Bucky to bring back to the tower for psychological treatment, not _punishment._

“You had to, Steve, the sooner the better,” you consoled softly, sitting to face him and give him a sign that he had your entire attention, even as he looked at the framed sketch of a dancing monkey sitting on the shelves behind his desk.  “Tony has rendered himself incapable of making a decision based entirely on logic, it’s a trait he couldn’t stand about his father, and this is something Tony is going to need time to work through.  He will get there, whether he wants to admit it or not he’s been used himself and he knows he made conscious decisions that hurt people.  Decisions Bucky never had the _option_ to make.  Tony just…”

Your wording had to be careful here.  Too far one way and it made Tony seem like he was just being a dick.  Too far another way and you were placing the blame on Steve.

“Just what?” Steve asked, blue eyes tired as he watched and waited for you to finish.  He hated depending on you like this.  Not because he didn’t trust you, while you might not tell him _everything_ like Thor the things you kept to yourself were personal things you were entitled to keep to yourself, but because you were only just approaching your mid-twenties with the wisdom of a woman nearing the end of her natural life.  That kind of wisdom and insight doesn’t come naturally, it comes through experience, and at your age it comes at the kind of experience that means either you wise up or you die.

Somehow, and it was still a blur how this happened, Steve found himself telling you everything while you never seemed in need of a shoulder to lean on.

At least he _hoped_ it was because you didn’t need it, and not because you didn’t feel you could trust him.

“The way Tony tells it, his relationship with Howard can be summed up by long periods of neglect, Howard being overly critical of Tony, and Howard spending an arguably disturbing amount of time putting you on a pedestal,” you started off, laying the basis for the more delicate part of the explanation as you placed your glass back on the coffee table before looking back up at Steve.  “Psychologically, I don’t even think Tony realizes he’s connected you with his… _daddy issues._   Subconsciously he’s so determined to see the perfect hero his father kept preaching about, if only to find some flaw that will mean he’s right and Howard’s wrong, and in doing that he only sees _Captain America_ , not _Steve Rogers,_ and it can’t help that he _knows_ you see parts of his dad in him.”

“And how am I supposed to deal with that?” Steve defended before tossing back the rest of his drink before putting the glass on the coffee table and pouring another drink, “I can’t apologize for something I _didn’t do.”_

“There’s only three people in the world that Tony trusts explicitly.  Pepper, Rhodey, and Happy.  They’ve all chosen to put themselves in situations where they have the disadvantage, where he has all the power and all the leverage.  As uncomfortable as it made you, by telling him the truth instead of hiding it from him, you just did that,” you offered a glimpse back into the conversation you and Steve had when you were convincing him to talk to Tony about the…issue.  “It won’t make Tony trust you explicitly, but he will be more open to a real discussion, to looking at the whole picture, and worst-case scenario Pepper will help us talk to him.”

“No, the worst-case scenario is you and Pepper act as middle-men between me and Tony.”

“If things are getting that far, I’m gonna need a raise.  That’s _far_ beyond my pay rate as _Magical Advisor_ and I have a fee schedule for any and all negotiations I might have to handle on your behalf.”

“I knew you were gonna be a little shit about that,” Steve groaned as his head fell back, smile growing as you laughed in response, the tense mood falling as he was starting to feel better about the decision he’d made.  The decision you’d _convinced_ him to make.  The last time the two of you had talked about it, you’d gotten huffy with him and snapped, _‘you can’t expect us to tell you everything when you’re so stingy about what you tell us, especially when it directly concerns us.’_

“Alright,” Steve started as he dug his phone out of his pocket before scrolling through, hitting play when he found the song he was looking for.  You groaned yourself, lightheartedly as Steve placed his phone on the coffee table.  You put your hand out for him to take before he’d even offered, so your reluctance to this was clearly for show, and he couldn’t help but chuckle as he pulled you to him with ease as the two of you started swaying to the recording playing from Steve’s phone.  It had started with an almost obligatory dance during the first party at the tower, during the second party you practically dragged him into a dance to avoid dancing with someone else, at another you wouldn’t let him leave to finish the piles of paperwork before he had at least _one_ dance, and then it just ended up being a _thing._   At every party, one way or another, the two of you would share at least the one dance.

Steve held you close, arm around your waist as his other hand was entangled in yours, chin resting on your head as the two of you just swayed back and forth.  You were comfortable, but there was a nagging fear in your gut.

Your destiny was to die a hero’s death.  The end of the world would come and in stopping it you would die.  You wouldn’t have a long and healthy life before that, it was just a matter of time and you were reaching a point when that coming doom could be _any day_.  If you fell in love, that was your problem.  It would give you someone to fight for, someone to think of so you could die with a smile knowing you did what was best for them.

If someone fell in love with you, like you feared Steve was doing, it was only a matter of time until you broke their heart.


End file.
